


Elastic Heart

by Kayswizzle



Category: The Good Wife (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 02:33:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4122694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayswizzle/pseuds/Kayswizzle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set sometime post season 2. The struggle is real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Kalinda’s eyes ache as she gazes, uncharacteristically unfocused, at her computer screen. She’s not sure what time it is, but the office’s stagnant darkness and solitude suggest a far later hour than she was anticipating.

She swiftly closes her laptop and is surprised to see she is not alone: Alicia Florrick is slumped over on her desk, apparently asleep.

Kalinda is keenly aware of the adrenaline surge at the unexpected sight of her former friend. She momentarily recovers and takes the rare opportunity to unabashedly look at Alicia, having nothing to hide.

These days, she only gives herself permission to half glance at Alicia between meetings, while she’s walking down the hall - head up, shoulders back. She doesn’t dare allow herself to look at Alicia face to face lest she betray her own impenetrable persona; but despite her best intentions, she’s been testing her own limits.

Her mind trailed off to that day a few weeks ago when she was in the conference room for a meeting about something, the details of which are now foggy. Kalinda knew Alicia would be coming from court and she’d probably be late. She watched and waited as all the seats filled in around her.

Kalinda had felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as Alicia entered the doorway behind her. She’d watched surreptitiously as Alicia scanned the room for a seat and hesitated on her only option: the one right across from Kalinda. Alicia waited a beat too long, unnoticed by all except her.

Alicia sat and coolly looked at Kalinda. For her part, Kalinda had remained outwardly impassive - the dangerous riptide of emotion deceptively hidden behind her languid eyes.

David Lee had been speaking but the room had gone silent; Kalinda heard only the rushing sound of her heart ebb and flow with Alicia’s hair as she swept an errant strand from her forehead with a wave of her fingertips. Her arm’s practiced return to the table had seemed more befitting of a politician than it did of Alicia - although she wasn’t quite sure whom she’d been dealing with these days.  Kalinda studied the way her mouth defaulted to a frown and began to wonder if she had really known her at all.

Kalinda had been adrift in her thoughts until Cary elbowed her in the side – apparently David Lee wanted an update about the husband’s infidelity. That’s what Cary whispered in her ear, at least. She’d felt her mouth move, her throat vibrate to produce sound. She’d been sure she’d been talking but couldn’t understand the words. She could tell from the bored expressions of those around her that she was keeping it together, until she saw Alicia. An imperceptible softening of her features caused Kalinda to stop mid sentence. Alicia’s ability to see through her various façades had always been unnerving.  

Now, Kalinda sat, unmoving. Eyes fixated on chestnut hair spilling across arms and paper and folders. She is struck by the absence of tension in Alicia’s body: no longer bound by convention, her neck, shoulders, arms, torso, legs finally succumb to the burden of gravity, of the late nights, of their falling out.

Kalinda stands before she is fully aware of her actions, as if moved by instinct. She glides soundlessly in stilettoed boots and dark leather towards Alicia’s office. She knows Alicia has an important defense tomorrow, which is none of her business now. She knows Alicia shouldn’t be sleeping and that she shouldn’t care. She should keep walking straight to the elevator without looking back. She knows she should, but…

…the soft light of the desk lamp illuminates Alicia’s face like a spotlight. Kalinda hadn’t been so close to Alicia in months. She stood, transfixed by the trace of smile lines near Alicia’s eyes, etched during happier times – her hair in disarray, disarmed and smelling unfamiliar. The stolen moment invokes a surge of tenderness that catches Kalinda off guard. Her mind shifts back to casual laughter, raised eyebrows, seamless smirks, and shots and shots and shots. Drunken, dizzy, and colliding into each other like bumper cars while hailing a cab.

Kalinda’s underestimation of her need for an emotional connection had been her ultimate undoing.

She fixates on Alicia’s lips, lazily parted and lightly drooling. She mourns the wide toothy smile they hold captive these days - the smile that communicated words withheld.

Now, Alicia doesn’t smile with her eyes or her teeth - her placid countenance a perfect reservoir of unshed tears, begging for the dam to break.

Kalinda doesn’t have to be near Alicia to know that she’s in pain.

Reaching down to gently wake her sleeping colleague, Kalinda notices her hand is shaking, not unlike one of the last times she had set foot in Alicia’s office long ago.

Kalinda inhales and gently nudges her shoulder. No response. She steps closer and tries again, this time hoarsely whispering, "Alicia." It sounds foreign to her, hearing that name in her own accented voice, the name she had almost stopped using all together out loud.  

As the words escape her lips, Kalinda’s heart picks up - as if finally uttering her name had erased the painful past. Alicia startles upright with her arm colliding into Kalinda’s side. A "sorry" quickly escapes her lips before she is fully aware of who is standing in her office. Kalinda sees the realization freeze her tired features.

Alicia wipes the corner of her mouth and smooths down her hair and clothes like armor for battle. Once fully recovered, her eyes finally turn to burn into Kalinda’s, expectantly.

Kalinda doesn’t miss a beat: "I needed to get the file for the deposition tomorrow afternoon. Sorry to wake you."

And with that, she disappears out of Alicia’s office, file in hand.


	2. Chapter 2

Two weeks later:

Alicia stifles a yawn; her biological needs belying her frayed nerves. She rubs her shoulder, a rare comfort amidst the insidious tension that’s been her constant companion. She scans the room to make sure no one has caught on. Her eyes burn red from fluorescent lights and lack of sleep.

 Alicia’s attempts to be present with Will and Diane are superseded by thoughts of the wily investigator and her enigmatic loyalty.

She flattered herself, she thinks now, into naively believing that Kalinda simply enjoyed her company, her humor, her personality. She had learned quickly since emerging back into the real world that people rarely do things without an ulterior motive.

 Her attention returns to the room as snippets of the conversation buzzing around her find their way into her consciousness:

"Budget cuts."

"She’s too expensive.

"Bankruptcy"

"Kalinda."

Kalinda.

Through the glass wall of the conference room, she can see Kalinda out of the corner of her eye: black hair and leather shifting as she slides down the corridor. The purposeful movements of her body distract from dead eyes and a weak smile - clever trick.

Except, Alicia knows. She is acutely aware of Kalinda’s pain, because it is her own as well.

Alicia begins sweating profusely, as if her pores are releasing the tears her eyes refuse to acknowledge. Her blouse awkwardly clings to her rib cage and her vision darkens. She wills herself to stand on shaky limbs and excuses herself from the meeting - muttering something about a last minute client appointment. Attention focused on her feet, one step after another.

She repeats this mantra to herself until she reaches the restroom. Alone, she exhales loudly and grips the counter until her knuckles ache white. She avoids her own gaze in the mirror as she turns on the water and splashes her face, a momentary reprieve from the thoughts she’s thinking and the ones she’s not.  

"Are you gay?" She had asked Kalinda, with a sloppy smile and a hunch. Kalinda’s evasion intensified her suspicion, yet left her oddly unsatisfied. What exactly had she been expecting?

It makes sense to Alicia now, her unwavering support and attention; Kalinda felt guilty about sleeping with her husband. Ever the fool, that’s what precipitated and maintained their friendship. Yet…

… those dark eyes shining brightly at the bar, hands and legs brushing together with effortless laughter. Even now, Alicia still wonders; Kalinda’s hand had felt so good in her own that night at the office party.

She shuts her eyes and these thoughts from her mind.

Alicia stays like this for several breaths, still not ready to face herself and the truth: she misses Kalinda in spite of herself.

Eventually she steels herself against her own image, blots away errant lines of mascara, and heads straight for Will’s office.

"I don’t care how much you have to pay her. Take it out of my salary. If she goes, I go."

The words escape her lips as she slams her hands on his desk, before her brain has a chance to censor and analyze and over analyze: A rare moment of disinhibition.

She succeeds in keeping the shock of her statement from showing on her face.

 Will studies her carefully and considers the magnitude of her words, of their delivery.

 His brown eyes soften at the corners and he nods his head in agreement.

 "Ok," Alicia returns as she marches back into the fray.


	3. Chapter 3

Kalinda knew the writing was on the wall: the firm’s financial status was looking grim and she’d heard the rumors, she was too much of a commodity these days. They couldn’t afford to keep her on.

She had pursued other job opportunities in the wake of her and Alicia’s fallout, but nothing had been a good fit. She yielded to the inescapable pull back to Lockhart & Gardner. Back to her.

A young receptionist asks her something - she can’t make out what. She doesn’t care and waves her off. She considers the real possibility that she may be let go - another part of her life outside her control. She doesn’t particularly want to be an investigator for the rest of her life but…

Alicia. The name keeps running through Kalinda’s head. Their fallout a constant reminder of the kind of person she had become – the one she had created with Alicia’s husband’s help. The kind of person who was immune to emotional connection and who used sex for trade. The kind of person, she now realized, she didn’t much like. But it was too late. In another life, Kalinda had slept with Peter - before there was an Alicia. It was as meaningless and forgettable as shopping for groceries on a Wednesday afternoon. Since Alicia had come into her existence, she had desperately tried to pry that memory from her past. Whatever Kalinda had wanted to be, was - except this. Her past was dark, littered with secrets and pain, but she survived, always beating the odds, playing dirty and winning. There were no regrets – except this.

The office begins to spin around her. Kalinda closes her eyes and digs the nail of her middle finger into her sweaty palm, adding pressure until the physical pain sufficiently distracts from that of her thoughts. The space next to her begins to contract and she needs air. She hurriedly grabs her notebook, shoves it into her jacket pocket, and stands. Her instincts tell her to flee and she obeys.

She writhes herself effortlessly through the various bodies milling around the halls, talking about their clients, their weekend plans, their lives. She had never been able to connect with someone in that way. Each time she had tried to share the smallest bit about her life, she had very quickly learned that people were not to be trusted.

But even early on in their friendship, she could tell Alicia was different; her guileless grin coaxed even the darkest parts of Kalinda’s heart to lighten just a bit.

She should have seen this coming. She should have resisted the unsophisticated courtroom charm that compelled her to return time after time; to make sure Alicia was ok and didn’t need any help, she had told herself.

Now, in the wake of the aftermath, the retreat back into the darkness hurt more than ever before.

Headed for the elevators, Kalinda’s mental resources are so focused on maintaining composure that by the time she notices Alicia exiting Will’s office, it’s too late.

Kalinda walks directly into Alicia’s side, catching the other woman off guard.

The intensity of the unanticipated contact stimulates every synapse in Kalinda’s brain. A confusing mixture of shock and desire and fear simultaneously course through her veins - as if in slow motion, her body records the contour of Alicia’s hips as they make contact with her own.

Before Kalinda can react, Alicia has already withdrawn herself, rubbing her left arm as if she’d been burned by Kalinda’s touch like an iron.

They lock eyes briefly before Kalinda pulls away.

But Kalinda sees Alicia without looking. She sees the scorn and anger in her face, her forehead forming a roadmap of contempt as her eyebrows knit together. She deserves it. She deserves that and much more.

Kalinda sees that face every time she closes her eyes to sleep, demanding she leave her office. Demanding she leave her life all together.

Kalinda is rendered immobile by the quick return of Alicia’s icy stare. Those hazel eyes had captivated her back before everything changed. She had noticed, with a guilty pleasure, how the light reflected off the tiny flecks of yellow and how they always seemed to be a little brighter, more daring, when Alicia was drinking. Now, she tries to avoid Alicia’s eyes at all costs.

Once Alicia’s eyes finally release her own, she stumbles forward slightly - her body still longing for some kind of connection. For some kind of sign that she hasn’t been cast out for good.

Kalinda’s right heel catches on something as she heads toward the elevators. She can’t bear to look behind her, in case her face exposes emotions she’d rather not acknowledge, much less reveal her inner turmoil to the one person with whom she’s most vulnerable.

She reaches the elevators but thinks against it – too many people at this hour.

Instead, she beelines for the stairwell.

She throws the doors open runs down the 20 + floors. By the time she’s reached the bottom she’s drenched in sweat and desperate for air. She needs a drink, and this time water isn’t going to do the trick.


	4. Chapter 4

Alicia catches a glimpse of movement to her left as she leaves Will’s office. A shock of black hair and leather, Alicia forgets how tiny Kalinda really is up close.

She is painfully aware of Kalinda’s warmth as they make contact – a welcome reprieve from the bitter frost that had overcome her the second the name Leela had escaped that relentless investigator’s lips the night of Peter’s election. She forgot how alluring Kalinda’s body feels. Not that she’d had much occasion to know. Or maybe it’s exactly how she’d imagined it would be – competent musculature covered in supple skin.

She feels something sharp jab her arm, and she recoils in pain. Instantly she feels the coldness return with the departure of Kalinda’s body from her own and berates herself – she had never had a high tolerance for pain, physical or otherwise. Another thing she could have learned from Kalinda.

Kalinda had always appeared to Alicia as someone who feared nothing, who could handle even the most excruciating of situations with a Mona Lisa smile. Even now, Kalinda appeared to be fairing much better than she was.

In that second, against all reason, Alicia brings herself to study Kalinda. To really look at the woman who had devastated her in a way even her own husband hadn’t been able to, despite his multiple affairs. Alicia notices the ashen hue to her skin and the way her jacket hangs formlessly around her torso. She searches the depths of Kalinda’s eyes for recognition - a flicker of who that woman used to be - but she comes back with nothing; Kalinda’s eyes pass through Alicia’s, unseeing.

Alicia blinks and Kalinda is gone – a wild animal on the brink of capture, Kalinda doesn’t remain in one spot for very long. Alicia resigns herself to the idea that this is how their professional relationship will be: a high stakes cat and mouse game where each woman both wounds and is wounded by the other.

Starting towards her office, Alicia’s attention is drawn to the floor, where she sees a familiar orange notebook. Her mind races back to that day, when she had confronted Kalinda about sleeping with Peter. She had never seen Kalinda so dismantled, so unprepared - her hands trembling around that notebook, more exposed than Alicia ever imagined was possible. Through her watery eyes, she thought she saw Kalinda fight back tears of her own.

Alicia bends to pick up the notebook – it looks much more ordinary in her own hands than it ever had in Kalinda’s. She scans the halls for the petite investigator and intuitively feels that she’s left. She checks the elevators and opens the door to the stairway – Kalinda was gone.

Alicia retreats to her office and puts the notebook in her purse for safekeeping. She’ll give it back tomorrow, she reasons.

Hours pass and Alicia keeps finding her attention drawn to the notebook, to Kalinda. Having this tiny book in her possession makes her feel closer to Kalinda than she had ever felt – as if she were safeguarding all of Kalinda’s secrets. Except – this was her work notebook. It must be even less revealing that the reticent investigator, she reasoned.

******

Alicia returns home and finds herself sitting at her kitchen island, wine in hand and notebook on the counter. The kids were spending the night with their father and she welcomed the solitude.

She vacillated back and forth about the ethical implications of reading the notebook. She hadn’t yet dared to peek inside, but could see the edges worn down by Kalinda’s capable hands.

Alicia’s resolve weakened with each glass of wine. Although still devastatingly betrayed by Kalinda’s dalliance with Peter, Alicia hadn’t fully thought through what her life would look like without Kalinda. She now found herself filled with conflicting feelings and having nowhere to turn.

She was yearning for whatever connection she could manage with Kalinda – as distant or as painful or as morally questionable as that may be. Each night the internal dissonance rang loudly in her mind: she slept with my husband, I hate her, I have to hate her, but…

She slowly and quietly lifted the cover, as if someone might catch her if she made too much noise. Alicia tentatively smoothed out the first page and marveled at the delicate curvature of Kalinda’s penmanship. Kalinda’s unflappable exterior was compensated for in the passionate and hurried scribbles and underlines of her handwriting. Alicia closed her eyes and brushed her fingertips delicately across the page, inhaling deeply and imagining the smell that is uniquely Kalinda. Imagining the inner workings of Kalinda’s mind as she operated without the pretext of restraint.

Her cautious admiration quickly turned to eager curiosity to delve deeper, to peruse Kalinda’s notes. What secrets lay within the confines of this orange leather? What did she hope to learn here? Alicia knew she should close the book now, but wasn’t sure if she could resist the temptation. Alicia had been accustomed to conducting herself within the boundaries of convention and expectations of others her entire life. She wasn’t sure that now was the right time to test the limits, especially when dealing with someone as fiercely private as Kalinda.

But part of her wanted to actively hurt Kalinda - the part of her that felt victimized and weak and wounded. Alicia wanted to gain a sense of power back in her life and that part of her wanted to seize this perfect opportunity – after all, no one had to know.


	5. Chapter 5

Although smoking indoors had long been banned in Chicago, the stale smell of cigarettes lingered like ghosts of patrons past at the dive bar. The banter of regulars blended together into a singular body of noise that wrapped around Kalinda like a blanket.

She had been here many times before, but no one approached her – they knew better; she was invisible and liked it that way. Especially after a day like today, where she had felt entirely too exposed.

Kalinda sat at the far end of the sticky bar. She embraced the whiskey’s warm burn down her throat and into her stomach – each shot attempting to both anesthetize her guilt and punish herself further.

Until meeting Alicia, Kalinda had thought altruism was just another word in the dictionary - a trait that storybook characters possess, but not real human beings. She remembers the way Alicia looked at her clients, especially in the beginning. The way she cared for them beyond billable hours and respect earned from cross-examinations. She thought maybe Alicia could care for her in that way too; in a way that no one had been able or allowed to in the past.

She chides herself now – she should have known better: Nothing good can come from letting someone in.

She signals the bartender for another shot. This time she sips it and lets the warm liquor linger on her tongue, slowly savoring the painful way her taste buds shrink back into themselves on contact. Kalinda’s gaze shifts to lock eyes with her reflection in the mirrored wall behind the bar: she needs to get it together. Kalinda can’t even bear the thought of losing herself in one of the many strangers around her tonight. She scrolls through her phone but decidedly wants to be alone.

She throws two twenty-dollar bills on the counter and is about to stand to leave when she catches a glimpse of Alicia walking through the doors of the bar. She immediately feels a wave of nausea come over her as her heart sinks into her alcohol-filled stomach. Jesus Christ, what is she doing here? 

Running on instinct, Kalinda maneuvers herself into a more inconspicuous location behind a group of 30-somethings ranting about the latest baseball game. From this vantage point, she watches Alicia precariously balanced on a barstool ordering a drink.

From what she can surmise, Alicia’s already had quite a few, and frankly, she’s amazed that the bartender is serving her. But then again, not everyone is as astute about Alicia’s state of mind.

Kalinda can’t take her eyes away as Alicia downs two shots in short order and she wonders what could be prompting this uncharacteristic behavior. Seeing Alicia like this makes trying to leave unnoticed all the more difficult. With Alicia so intoxicated, she could easily sneak out behind her back, but Alicia didn’t appear to be meeting anyone and Kalinda worried about how Alicia could possibly make it back home in this state. Kalinda’s concern for Alicia grew exponentially as she watched Alicia try to stagger to the restroom at the other end of the bar.

Kalinda grips the edge of the bar – in her mind dodging left and right as if she could assist Alicia to her destination by sheer will power. She knows she should just leave but her eyes remain fixed on Alicia while her mind tallied the reasons for staying or going; why she shouldn’t help Alicia when every fiber of her being was begging her to do so.

She sees Alicia return to her seat in a reasonable amount of time. She must not be as bad off as she appeared. This thought comforts Kalinda until she sees the bartender shake his head and refuse Alicia’s drink order.

Alicia throws her hands up in the air in an exasperated manner and, using her best lawyer tone, demands that the bartender comply. She watches the bartender’s eyes make contact with those of the bouncer by the door; Kalinda knows this will not end well for Alicia.

Kalinda watches Alicia rise defiantly from her seat like a petulant child with something to prove; despite the sober show Alicia’s putting on, she’s not quite pulling it off. Kalinda winces as Alicia, while yelling at the bartender, crashes into a group of men erupting into drunken laugher about some dumb joke, her abrupt entrance into their circle serves to only excite them further. Kalinda witnesses in horror as one of the men lewdly grabs at Alicia while she does little to stop him; with this, Kalinda’s decision is made.

Swiftly and efficiently she makes her way to Alicia just as she loses her balance for a second time and nearly falls to the floor. Kalinda comes behind her and loops her arms under Alicia’s shoulders. She marvels at the weight of Alicia’s pliable body – even after their many nights at bars, she had never seen Alicia like this.

The group of men are disappointed with Kalinda’s arrival; they try in vain to engage her in their sexist raillery but decide against it once they see the steely resolve on her face. Kalinda is more enraged than she has been in a long time. Since before she was Kalinda.

Astutely aware of the fact that the wife of an elected official is extremely intoxicated in public, Kalinda hopes this fact is lost on all others at the bar. Not wanting to draw any more attention to the situation, she decides against the many violent scenarios running through her head. Instead, Kalinda frees a hand and fishes it into the pocket of the man that grabbed at Alicia, slides out his phone, and plunks it into his beer without anyone the wiser.

Kalinda’s steadying fingers remain unnoticed on Alicia’s back as Kalinda stoops slightly to look at Alicia beneath the curtain of unkempt hair shielding her face.

“Alicia. Are you ok? What are you doing here?” she asks in hurried, hushed tones.

“Kalinda? What? How did you get here? I’m fine,” Alicia slurs, her face looking anything but.

“I’m taking you home.” There was no need for the pretext of pleasantries. It was as if the alcohol had chipped away at Alicia’s frosty exterior, allowing Kalinda to engage her more freely.

At that, Kalinda places a hand on Alicia’s arm and lower back and guides her through the crowded bar. Alicia appears to be trying to protest but Kalinda can’t be sure over the noise.

The cool night air welcomes the women as they leave the chaos behind and Kalinda spins Alicia around so they are face to face.

“Alicia, what are you doing here?”

“I just needed to get out of my apartment. It was too quiet. I’m sorry Kalinda. I’m so sorry.  I – “

“- stop, Alicia. Stop.” She interjects, not believing herself to be in any position to be listening to Alicia apologize to her for anything. Nevertheless, Alicia’s eyes fall; she appears unusually hurt by the forcefulness of those words. Kalinda quietly follows with: “let me get you home.”

They walk silently to the car and Kalinda opens the door. Alicia climbs in and Kalinda closes the door behind her. She takes two measured breaths before walking to her side. The lifeless look behind Alicia’s eyes served to sober Kalinda enough to drive both of them back safely to Alicia’s apartment.


	6. Chapter 6

The ride to Alicia’s apartment had been painfully silent. Kalinda turned on the radio to dim the buzzing of questions in her mind, but her mind carried on: what is going on with Alicia?

Alicia was only half awake during the trip and Kalinda suspected the other half might have been pretending; even in her state of disinhibition, Alicia still clung to some semblance of control.

Kalinda supports Alicia’s weight as she helps her out of the car and to the elevator. She can’t help but laugh to herself at the irony: she’d become infinitely more acquainted with Alicia’s body in the past hour - at the height of their falling out - than in the entirety of their friendship. Then again, Kalinda never did things by the book.

As they arrived at the front door, Alicia dipped her hand into her bag and produced her keys, flashing them at Kalinda with a wide grin as if she were a child proud of a major accomplishment. Then she turned and with gross exaggeration jabbed at the lock, missing, of course, over and over. Kalinda sighed and gently took the keys from Alicia, concluding that in any other situation this would have been amusing - a crazy little memory to reminisce upon a day or two from now, laughing together at their drunken mishaps. But now the word that came to mind was sad - just sad. After unlocking the door, Kalinda hesitated in the threshold; she was entering uncharted territory in the wake of their falling out and wasn’t sure how to proceed. After watching Alicia nearly trip while taking off her shoes, Kalinda realized that her job was not quite finished.

Alicia begins removing her outer layers and Kalinda follows the trail of discarded clothing to the bedroom as Alicia unceremoniously falls facedown across her unmade bed. She marvels at the way the soft light from the hall caresses Alicia’s body. The way the dimness enhances the contrast between her dark hair and porcelain skin. Kalinda slowly approaches, bracing herself for the protest that never materializes. She puts a tentative hand on Alicia’s arm, her nerve endings springing to life as their skin makes contact.

Alicia has remained silent but complies with coaxing and pulling of Kalinda’s hands as she helps her sit up. Emboldened by Alicia’s permissiveness, Kalinda places her hands on either side of Alicia’s face. Kalinda questions Alicia with her eyes and softly whispers, “what’s wrong, Alicia?” - both of them slipping back to simpler times with the proximity of their bodies, the heat of their breaths. 

Kalinda wants to move the strand of hair away from her cheek, wants to bring her lips down to Alicia’s and feel the electricity moving between their bodies. She wants to slide up and down against her skin as if to erase the mistakes of the past and find a way to make things right again. Instead, she settles into the silence, for once completely unable to read Alicia’s thoughts.

“You slept with my husband,” Alicia says hollowly, without the vitriol of the first time that sentence escaped her lips. It was as if she was saying it to herself.

Kalinda remains quiet, hoping to elicit more from her colleague. She notices that Alicia’s cheeks are wet and feels something heavy move inside her. 

She has never been good with words and decides that any conversation they have now will be pointless given Alicia’s current condition. So she says instead, “let me get you to bed.”

Kalinda grabs discarded pajamas pants from the other side of the bed. She lays Alicia back and hesitates a moment before watching her fingers move towards Alicia’s waist. As if watching herself from outside her body, Kalinda makes quick work of the buttons and slides the pants off her hips as if she’d done this a hundred times before. All the while keeping her eyes averted, not allowing herself to fully acknowledge Alicia’s smooth legs, so white they appeared to glow in the dark of the bedroom. She didn’t allow herself to notice the way her underwear left little to the imagination and the way her skin like silk flowed beneath her fingertips. This was not at all how she’d imagined herself undressing Alicia.

Kalinda is grateful when Alicia tilts her hips up slightly to allow Kalinda to pull up her pajama pants. Kalinda shuts her eyes to block out visions of Alicia moving in that way again and again as she rests her head between Alicia’s legs. She helps Alicia maneuver her head to a pillow and pulls up the sheets.

Alicia mumbles something, causing Kalinda to lean closer - her face inches from Alicia’s lips. “That damn napkin Kalinda. That _goddamn_ _napkin_ ” she forces out, as if she had been holding on tightly to those words all night.

Kalinda looks at her, confused - a question forming on her lips. But as Alicia’s eyes roll back, the lids closing heavily around them, Kalinda decides to let it go. She’s probably referring to some case evidence, Kalinda decides, musing that even as drunk as she is, this woman cannot stop working.

“Go to sleep, Alicia,” she murmurs close to her ear. She wants to kiss her forehead then. She longs to kiss her cheeks and her tears and her pain until it’s light outside again. She struggles with every last bit of resolve she has left to resist the urge and turn on her heel to walk out. 

Kalinda pauses in the doorway and looks over her shoulder at Alicia. She wants to memorize this moment and assure that her eyes remember the way Alicia looks wrapped in her blankets, and pretend she was in Alicia’s bedroom for any other reason other than what she actually was. She allows herself this moment and not another more.

She makes her way to the kitchen to get a glass of water for Alicia and is suddenly aware that she might not be the only one in the apartment, although she realizes that Alicia probably wouldn’t have left her children alone to go out for a night on the town. Her lips curl into her first real smile in ages as she reflects on the night’s strange turn of events – she never could have imagined this happening.

Clutching the now full glass of water, Kalinda begins to make her way back to the bedroom when a familiar shade of orange catches her eye. She stops in her tracks and turns her head to see her notebook open on the counter. 

The glass of water is so heavy in her hand. So heavy that she can’t hold on to it anymore and it crashes to the floor, glass shattering into a hundred pieces, spilling its contents on the cabinets, the tiles, the trashcan. But Kalinda’s eyes don’t move from the notebook, a million thoughts at once running through her mind: How did Alicia get her notebook? Did she read it? Did she know?

All of this was too much for Kalinda, like the top layers of her skin had been singed away leaving her raw and exposed. She began retching in the sink - the contents of her stomach sliding down the drain. Forgetting about the glass shards littered around her feet, forgetting about the water on the floor, forgetting about Alicia drunkenly sleeping in the next room, Kalinda can only focus on the pain of Alicia’s betrayal. She grabs her notebook from the counter and staggers out of Alicia’s apartment, the elevator unsteady beneath her feet.


	7. Chapter 7

Awareness washes over Alicia like the tide. She slowly becomes mindful of the fact that she is awake and terribly hung-over – so much so that she is afraid to open her eyes. 

She rolls to her side and immediately regrets it – the urge to vomit prevailing as she hurries to the bathroom just in time. After rinsing out her mouth and sipping water, Alicia surrenders to weak legs and curls up in a fetal position on the floor, the cool tile chilling through her clothes. 

It is only then that Alicia’s thoughts turn to last night: how did she get so drunk? She remembers leaving the house, but why? And where did she go?

She brings herself slowly to a seated position and catches her reflection in the shower door. 

Kalinda. Fragmented memories like gunshots assault her: Warm hands and eyes upon her cheeks, her back, her skin - so warm that a part of her had melted last night. The recollection invokes a surge of emotion so unexpected and powerful that she hugs the toilet as her stomach violently contracts for a second time. 

As she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, she looks down and notices her pajama pants. Kalinda had been in her apartment last night. A warm flush overtakes her ivory skin as she recalls Kalinda’s fingers ghosting over her hips and thighs as she helped her out of her jeans. 

Alicia grimaces involuntarily at how stupid she had been last night. She remembers going out to the bar, seeking the numbness that could only come from drinking alone in the company of strangers. Why was Kalinda at that bar of all places? How careless to get so drunk that she couldn’t make her way back home - so careless that Kalinda of all people would be the one to look after her. But wasn’t it just like Kalinda? 

Alicia’s empty stomach interrupts her racing thoughts and propels her to the kitchen. She shuffles barefoot down the hall avoiding thoughts of work tomorrow. 

She glides past the island and her foot lands on something hard and sharp. Alicia gasps in pain and lowers her gaze to find glass shards littering the floor. She didn’t remember breaking anything last night. 

Alicia pulls out the glass and soon feels the sticky blood pool beneath her foot. She instinctively reaches for the napkin behind her on the counter – the one she had placed there last night through blurry eyes as she grabbed her keys. The one with quick, drunken scribbles, worn ragged with time and gentle hands. The sudden realization hits her like bricks as she’s about to press it to her bleeding foot – the napkin had been the impetus behind her unraveling. She looks back to the island where less than 12 hours ago the orange notebook had been sitting and was now gone. 

She feels dizzy as the gestalt of last night’s events play out slowly in her mind. She had wanted so badly to read that notebook, to act out against Kalinda by violating her privacy. But she couldn’t bring herself to go through with it.

She told herself that she wouldn’t stoop to that level. Peter’s infidelity had elicited shame, regret, and decisions she now questions, but she vowed that it would not make her knowingly hurt someone else; she knew all too well how that went. 

Ever resolute, Alicia forcefully closed the cover and picked up the notebook, planning on placing it back in her bag to bring to Kalinda on Monday. As she stood up, a knock on the door broke the heavy silence that had settled in apartment the moment Alicia had opened the notebook. If she had not been fairly intoxicated at that point, she would have launched into a full-blown panic attack. Still, Alicia was so caught off-guard that the notebook went flying out of her hand and hit the floor, sending a tattered cocktail napkin fluttering in the air. (It ended up being the woman from upstairs, asking for some sugar to make cookies, or a cake. She can’t remember.) 

After dealing with the neighbor, Alicia hastily tossed notebook to the island, which fell open haphazardly in the process, and bent to pick up the napkin, which was inscribed with a familiar logo. Alicia’s mind was drawn further back in time to that bar, that night: liquor flowing freely, glasses crashing hard in laughter and littering the table. 

Alicia had won an exceptionally big case thanks to Kalinda pulling through in the 11th hour. She had wanted to show her gratitude for Kalinda’s hard work and begged the investigator out for drinks to celebrate – a new Lockhart & Gardner tradition, she had joked. 

Alicia was riding high from her win that day and wanted Kalinda to partake in the revelry. Several drinks in she had turned to Kalinda, her persona suddenly serious. She had wanted to tell Kalinda this for months now, always a little uneasy about sharing genuine affection, but especially after losing her so-called friends to the scandal. 

But at that moment, for better or worse, she had the confidence boost of a great trial and too many shots. She placed her hand over Kalinda’s, which was resting on her thigh. She remembers how small and thin that hand was in her own, how she had startled Kalinda by the abrupt change in her demeanor. 

The words were unavoidable then and came spilling out of her lips like water in between the breaths she tried to keep even, calm. Her heart filled beyond the constraints of her ribcage and diaphragm and she felt like she was drowning; it had become abundantly clear how much she admired this woman. The way Kalinda gave more of herself to Alicia than she ever hoped to get in return. Alicia had to let her know it wasn’t all for nothing - to gain some buoyancy in the midst of her inner storm. 

After the last of her sentences had drained away, Alicia stopped and looked in the pause that followed her last breath. She remembers the way Kalinda had listened carefully in the spaces between her words. The way she had tilted her head and smiled softly in silent reciprocation, her big eyes warm and beautiful. There was so much there, in that small exchange, and they both knew it -as if Kalinda had never in her life stared at anyone else like that before. 

A comfortable, quiet moment passed between them. Then Alicia joked about Kalinda’s unorthodox methods for obtaining case information and starting their own firm together after their recent success. They brainstormed names for their hypothetical business and had written them on that napkin, shouting various amalgams of their names and eagerly grabbing the pen from each other - their bodies finding any reason to be near. Alicia had forgotten about that night until now, but apparently Kalinda hadn’t. 

The memory guts Alicia as she thinks back to how poorly she had been treating the other woman this past year. She thinks about the reasons why Kalinda held on to that napkin and safely tucked it away in her notebook. That night must have meant more to Kalinda than Alicia could allow herself to consider at the time. 

Kalinda must not have found the napkin when she left last night. She must have seen the open notebook on the island and thought the worst. Alicia immediately grabs her phone from the counter and calls Kalinda – the need to reach out beyond this misunderstanding like air for depleted lungs. The call goes straight to voicemail. She tries to think of something to say, opens her mouth to provide an explanation but nothing happens. She calls Kalinda five more times, each with the same result.

Alicia eyes remain unfocused on the napkin as she processes what has happened while still clutching the phone. She thinks of Kalinda and wonders where to go from here. Her feet remain moored to the kitchen tile in the wake of the sorrow and devastation that swirl around her. She feels as though she will float away with all she’s endured spreading out on the white caps of the sea - her tears vanishing like stones in the crimson blood on the floor.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long delay! a lot has been going on in my life. namely, my wifey is pregnant with twins! that process has been taking up a lot of time but i am happy to share that it paid off :)

Alicia grips the metal railing with her bare hands. The chipped green paint provides a shoddy barrier between her flushed skin and the steel beneath it. The cold burns into her fingers as she grips tighter, pieces of paint now sticking to her palms. The morning air is below freezing and she can see rays of sun struggling to find their way between the skyscrapers dominating her view. She is so still that her breath, forming clouds around her, is the only indication that she is there, alive. 

She had never been a morning person. She had never been a lot of things that she now was finding herself to be. Especially since Kalinda left her apartment so many nights ago. But in the months of Kalinda’s absence, Alicia’s been left to re-evaluate what she held to be true. 

Now, Alicia has taken to running through the outskirts of city every morning. It’s the only time of day that she can quiet her mind and simply focus on breathing. It’s the one part of her life that is predictable, in her control - her only time to herself. She’d given up calling Kalinda a few weeks ago. Her voicemail was full and no one knew where she was. Alicia was sure that’s the way Kalinda preferred it. So, she did the only thing she could do: carry on despite the constant questions aching in her heart. 

She took one last look over the bridge and imagined all of the people who were now likely waking up next to their husbands, wives, lovers; the emptiness of her own life raw and obvious - jealousy gnawing at her stomach. The smell of dead leaves and bus exhaust burned her nostrils as she turned back home. 

Alicia replays faded memories as each foot strikes the pavement. She approaches the lone oak tree on her right and recalls the searing betrayal of Kalinda’s affair with Peter. How she cast Kalinda out of her life. She reaches the church bordering the park and begins replaying Kalinda’s acts of atonement – finding Grace and ensuring she would never see that boy again. Her pace picks up with her increasing guilt as she enters the part of her run where she examines her role in Kalinda’s absence. 

Self-reflection had never been her strong suit. She always kept her eyes aimed straight ahead and marched forward. But as the weeks have passed she realized that she needed to slow down and examine the casualties of her own actions, including herself.

Alicia brings herself to contemplate the idea that her feelings for Kalinda were complicated - more than platonic. But she can’t push herself to be with those thoughts. It’s too painful to acknowledge the hurt she’s caused the other woman, especially if Kalinda’s feelings weren’t solely platonic as well. If she were to have romantic inclinations for Kalinda, what would that mean? Would she be gay? What would it even be like to be with another woman?

This is where she ends every morning: sweaty, breathless, with blood rushing through her veins – and not entirely from the run. Not having resolution or coming closer to the truth, but finding comfort in the familiarity of her masochistic routine. 

She returns home and enters her bathroom. She considers herself in the mirror. Her face has become more jagged, her jawline a little more muscular. She feels as though her newly muscled body is a charade to compensate for the weakness within. 

Alicia undresses and enters the scalding shower. She leans her head against the tile and lets the water beat down on her back. All of the reasons Kalinda may have held on to that napkin race through her mind: It accidentally made it’s way in there. She used it as a bookmark. She held on to in case she needed it for blackmail later, to prove Alicia’s disloyalty. Kalinda liked the printed logo. 

But deep in her bones she knows the answer. Every morning she avoids the possibility that Kalinda could actually have feelings – especially for her. Through the course of their friendship, she had noticed Kalinda flirting with others, but only as a means to an end. To obtain evidence or to gratify her physical needs - a casual dalliance with no attachments. She had never noticed any indication that Kalinda had normal, human, emotional ties to anyone. 

Except…the way Kalinda had almost doted on her. Alicia had initially chalked it up to guilt, but what if it was something else? She had also never known Kalinda to feel remorseful about anything. She had never known Kalinda to care about anyone but her. But Alicia can’t consider that she read the situation wrong - that she was so devastatingly wrong in her interpretation of Kalinda’s devotion. 

Alicia quickly shampoos and conditions her hair. She feels a deep longing between her legs, but makes quick work of washing her body. She doesn’t deserve to feel anything pleasurable right now. She thinks back to her relationships with Peter and Will, and what initially drew her to them. Was it the charm? Something she thought she should do? Something that was expected of her? it’s not like she didn’t enjoy the sex, or that those relationships weren’t fraught with their own complications. But compared to how she’s feeling now, everything else feels so blasé. 

Alicia towels off and begins drying her hair. She’s had the same hairdryer for the past 10 years, and although it nearly deafens her, she hasn’t thought to part with it. It’s so loud that she doesn’t notice the beep of her phone, notifying her of a text message. She is so wrapped up in her thoughts that she doesn’t notice the smell of singed hair, or that her phone is flashing with a message from an unknown number: 1115 Prospect Ave. 5pm.


	9. Chapter 9

Kalinda paces absentmindedly in the abandoned warehouse. The clicking of her heels on the concrete fill the air with a nervous energy that suffocates her with every step; the vacant space feeling hot, airless, despite the broken windows and freezing wind howling through them. Suddenly self-conscious, she moves to stand in a shadowy corner, avoiding the eerie blue light reflecting in from the soft winter sun on the snow.

She thinks back to the message she sent to Alicia with hopes of summoning her here to talk – a neutral location away from the pressures of prying eyes and ears in the heart of the city. She has been thinking a lot lately. Her mind occupied with dozens of scenarios with one inevitable outcome. No matter how strong the urge to run has been, she knows she can’t leave without taking one last calculated risk.

She thinks back to the last time she saw Alicia, in her apartment drunk and sleeping, the shape of her body and her pleading eyes, asking for forgiveness. The bare, porcelain arms she desperately wants wrapped tightly around her body. Kalinda can imagine the feel of those hands on her skin, the softness of them, protective yet powerful. She catches herself wondering about the last time she had meaningful physical contact with anyone and feels suddenly chilled.

Any thought of Alicia since leaving her apartment that night has been met with childlike embarrassment at the thought of her journal being perused. Of Alicia learning the truth about the nature of her devotion, that it was not guilt or pity that drew Kalinda to her. That in her misanthropic aloofness, she was capable of quite the opposite – self-sacrificial love. That she loved Alicia so much more than anything or anyone in her entire life, so much that it consumed Kalinda completely. It infused her with an unfamiliar sense of reverence that commandeered her every decision. She was no longer in control her actions or emotions and she hated herself for it. Kalinda’s cheeks burn crimson in response to this vulnerability and she turns her head as if to avoid the constant barrage of negative thoughts that have been assailing her these past weeks.

Kalinda has always known how to deal so efficiently with the monsters inside of her, the ones that have grown since she was a child and multiplied with each passing year. But no matter how hard she tries, Kalinda cannot figure out what to do with this love. She thought she had known love once, many years ago, and all that had come with had been abuse. Nothing good ever comes from acting on your feelings. But she knows that if she doesn’t do something now, she might never have the courage to say these words out loud. They might slip out of her clenched fists forever and disappear lest they choke her to death in the meantime.

***

Alicia puts a reluctant hand on the door of the abandoned warehouse. The resulting creak in the rusty hinges sends her a few inches back, her reservations about this meeting surging to the surface. Nevertheless, she pushes forward, her desire to see Kalinda outweighing everything else.

Alicia had to admit that she was afraid of love - not just of those feelings in particular, but especially when they are directed toward Kalinda. For in her exquisite inscrutability, Kalinda carried things deep within her that no one had yet to grasp. As discreet as Kalinda was, Alicia knew there were many others that came before her. Many lovers who had tried to solve Kalinda’s mysteries and failed - and Alicia was afraid to fail like all the rest. Kalinda was the sea, dark and swirling riptides under a calm facade. And Alicia was someone who loved feel the waves lap around her feet but was petrified of drowning.

Alicia worries her bottom lip between her teeth as she tentatively steps inside, unsure of what is waiting for her. The warehouse is so silent that she feels deafened by her graceful footsteps, the gentle swish of her woolen jacket, her quickening breaths, the rush of hot blood through her veins. As her eyes struggle to adjust to the dark lighting, she can’t discern any signs of life amongst the stacks of broken crates and pallets.

Then out of the receding darkness, she sees this: a quicksilver figure beneath a cracked window, surrounded by airborne dust particles that glitter gold in the setting sun.

Alicia, transfixed and not sure how to proceed, remains still, her feet firmly rooted to the ground. The figure’s penetrating coffee brown eyes bear into her own like a predator honed in to its prey. Kalinda and Alicia consider each other for several seconds, unable to verbalize a sound.

Kalinda then takes several confident, slow steps toward Alicia, never breaking eye contact. Alicia’s breaths quicken as her diaphragm shrinks with the distance between them. Kalinda stops within arms length, a sense of hesitation flashing over her face.

Alicia can’t help but notice that Kalinda looks hollowed out, like when she had grabbed her notebook and left her office months ago – as though someone has scraped away her insides, leaving a shell. They remain standing there, quietly considering each other. The silence stretches out, filling the space between them; it rings in Alicia’s ears and she feels hot and uncomfortable, her mind suddenly blank.

She tries to think of all the things she wants to say to Kalinda. How deeply she regrets casting her out, not appreciating her friendship and devotion. How wrong she’s been in her understanding of their relationship. Alicia wants to say the words out loud, over and over. She reaches out at last and takes Kalinda’s hand into her own, her thumb against Kalinda’s wrist, on her pulse. She breathes in desperately as if she’s suffocating and lowers her head.

***

Of all the thoughts circling through Kalinda’s mind, none are louder than that of the shrinking space between them. Alicia shifts slightly to the left, and with the imperceptible change in weight between one foot to the next, the setting winter’s sun shines through broken windows right into Kalinda’s eyes - the golden rays blinding her to the expression on the other woman’s face. As if the sun itself is weighted down by the heaviness between them, sinking lower with each second - rushing to find solace beneath the horizon.

But Kalinda doesn’t need to see Alicia’s eyes to tell her what is happening in front of her. It then happens like taking a breath – so natural yet deliberate, necessary for the continuity of life, fuel for the beating heart. She feels the heat of Alicia’s lips before they meet her own, as if they were already a part of her. As if they had been rehearsing this moment for years.

The inevitable collision of lips is her undoing. Kalinda had been accustomed to acting upon another type of instinct all together and now she finds herself in uncharted territory. She feels like a teenager again, unsure and unsteady, hyper aware of every sensation within and outside of her body: the pliant heat of Alicia’s lips, meeting Kalinda’s without hesitation; Kalinda’s heart pummeling her ribcage in an attempt to reach beyond the confines of her chest. She fears Alicia can sense its beating through both of their winter jackets.

As soon as it beings, it is done. The cold air rushes in to replace the warmth of Alicia’s breath, leaving Kalinda’s lips tingling and eager. For a second time, Kalinda is caught off guard by Alicia.

Stunned, Kalinda tries then to open her mouth to regurgitate the rehearsed apology that’s quickly evaporating from her memory as her brain experiences a sensory overload. Kalinda manages some control over her eyes, which flicker up to meet Alicia’s. And in their gaze she sees an apology, and acknowledgement, and an awakening. A lifetime of unspoken truths scintillating in their hazel depths. With a confidence typically reserved for the courtroom, Alicia leans down and kisses Kalinda again.

This time, Kalinda pours herself into Alicia at the touch of their lips, no longer content to remain behind her carefully constructed barriers. Her hand slides beneath the smooth chestnut hair protecting Alicia’s neck, drawing her closer, the other grabbing tightly to her lapels, as if Alicia might suddenly disappear.

Alicia responds by deepening the kiss and removing any remaining distance between their bodies. Kalinda feels heavy tear drops then, carrying more than they could ever bear, bending dark lashes and weighing down eyelids already sagging under the burden of this formidable love. One by one, tears fall, released by bloodshot eyes. They flow to the concrete, each as soundless as the words pressed unspoken between their parted lips,

Love is like this: hearing the words you don’t have to say.


End file.
